by Penny Wylder
A phone number. His phone number. The laughter bubbles up in me again and I can’t contain it.
“Dani? Dani, why are you giggling?” My sister sounds exasperated.
Closing my fingers around the chip, I grin as wide as I can, hoping she'll hear it in my voice. “Because I'm a lucky woman.”
6
Dani
I haven’t travelled a lot, but every time I do, I love the feeling of coming home. A certain sense of welcome and belonging envelops me as the plane lands in South Carolina. We’re informed that the local weather is a balmy seventy-five degrees and sunny—perfect weather for May. Of course she doesn’t mention the humidity so I’m anticipating feeling like I’m stepping into a pool the minute I get outside.
This airport is much smaller than the hectic craze in Vegas, and it seems like no time at all before I’m heading towards the baggage claim, keeping an eye out for Kelly. It’s impossible to miss her—my sister is the epitome of a southern belle. Her smile is wide, her curls are blonde, and even standing in the middle of an airport she looks like she stepped out of a magazine ad. We couldn’t be more different. She’s waiting next to the baggage conveyor with my flight’s luggage, flipping through her phone. If I know her at all, she’s reading the latest story on Nolan and me, seeing what new insights the gossip sites have.
During most of the year my sister is a school teacher—a good one too. She loves her students like they’re her own, and she always ends up being their favorite. She directs the school plays and comes up with field trips I wish I had had in my day as a student. But during the summer, my sister is part groupie, part hippie. She spends most of her time hooked on the latest pop culture story and the other half making jewelry that she always hopes to sell. She probably knew who Nolan Coldwater was long before I did.
I played with that little poker chip for the entire flight, thinking about the pros and cons of dialing that number. I would love to see him again. He’s interesting and kind, and ridiculously fucking sexy. But doesn’t what happens in Vegas have to stay there? I’m sure Nolan didn’t go to Vegas looking to find a new girlfriend, and I certainly didn’t go looking for anyone in particular. No, it’s better if we let that night be the amazing memory it is and let the gossip columnists forget all about the woman caught inside Nolan Coldwater’s Las Vegas hotel room.
It takes her a few minutes to spot me, but when she does, I see the way she takes me in from head to toe. No doubt noting that I’m in the same outfit that’s on the front of all the articles. She gives me a smile that’s way too forced, pulling me in for a hug that’s just a little too tight. “When I sent you off to Vegas to have some fun, I meant easy fun. Simple fun. Not ‘get-banged-by-a-billionaire-and-put-in-all-the-tabloids’ fun.”
I laugh, ignoring the horrified look on her face when she releases me. Unfortunately, her voice just gets louder. “I mean it, Dani. I hoped you’d have a fling, but I didn’t mean jumping into bed with one of the richest guys on the planet. Are you insane?”
I see my bag coming around the conveyor and I grab it. “It’s not that big of a deal, Kelly.”
Her jaw drops open like a cartoon character. “Not a big deal? Dani, every paper and gossip blog has a photo of you. You’re national news!” She shoves her phone in my face as evidence, and as I predicted, she’s been reading all about my night in Vegas.
“I didn’t know who he was when I slept with him,” I say.
Her hand grips my arm like a vice. “You didn’t know who Nolan Coldwater was?”
“No.” I shrug her arm off me and continue towards the car. “He told me who he was after that photographer was outside the room, warned me that the photo would be online. It’s fine. It’s a news story for today, and by tomorrow no one will care.”
“I severely doubt that,” she says. “I just don’t know how you could do something this dumb. I mean, when I said let loose I was thinking the way normal people let loose in Vegas. Have a little one-night stand that stays. In. Vegas. Not getting national press attention while doing the walk of shame.”
We reach the car and she helps toss my bag into the trunk, a little harder than necessary. I stop her as she closes it. “Kelly, relax. I’m really not upset about this. The trip ended up being way better than I expected.” I make a note to tell her about what an asshole Gerard was. “It would have never happened if you hadn’t made me go. So thank you.”
Kelly’s shoulders relax and she looks at me—really looks at me for the first time since I landed. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I’m really fine,” I say, laughing. “I wish the photo was a little better, but there’s no harm done. It’s a pretty innocent picture, no matter what they’re saying in the articles.”
She grins, unlocking the car and sliding in. “Yeah, you look a little rough in the picture. And I’m glad you’re okay because I have so many questions!”
“Oh?”
“Ummm…yes. Like how the hell did you end up with him instead of on that date? What is he like—I know you didn’t know who he was but everyone knows who he is and he’s a fucking dreamboat. And most importantly, is he as good in bed as I’m imagining? Because the way you look in that picture tells me you didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
My body is instantly flooded with memories of last night, gasping for breath under his body, every motion making me writhe in pleasure. I blush, and try not to fidget as my body warms up at just the thought of everything he did to me—everything we did together.
My sister doesn’t miss a thing though. “Oh my god you’re blushing. Tell me everything. Tell me everything right now.”
I laugh nervously, a twinge in my gut at the thought of sharing something that still feels so intimate. “Everything? What about you, how was your weekend? I know you had some plans with Jacob.”
“Please,” she begs. “You know I live for this kind of thing, and I never thought I’d have a source as good as you for this kind of gossip. Fill me in.”
I smile. It’s true, Kelly has always had a soft spot for celebrity gossip. She seems a little desperate for this, almost like she doesn’t want to tell me what happened this weekend, but I decide to let it go. She’ll tell me when she’s ready. That’s the way it’s always been. I’ll tell her what I can about Nolan and me, but not everything. There are some parts of last night that are going to stay with me and only me.
Well I guess it won’t stay with just me. It will stay with us in Vegas where it belongs.
Kelly’s neighborhood appears with a warm familiarity. It’s just around the corner from the neighborhood we grew up in, and I know it like the back of my hand. Angelica, South Carolina is a cute place with small, well-kept houses that look like anyone’s idea of the American dream. It’s always been a good community with plenty of neighborhood events and a sense of safety. Kelly is practically a staple in the town, always the one to organize the neighborhood get-togethers, always the one to give the kids lemonade on a hot summer day. She got all the love of kids—teaching really is the perfect career for her.
She’s always loved this town. I love it too, but not like Kelly. I don’t like the way it’s changed over the years. The fields and farms we grew up with slowly being taken over by strip malls and fast food restaurants. It still has that same sense of community, but the town is different. There’s a part of me that longs for how it used to be when we were little.
The neighborhood seems awfully quiet as we drive through and I glance at the clock. It’s Monday, but it’s late enough in the afternoon that kids should be home from school. It’s a common sight for kids to be playing outside, drawing with chalk. But there aren’t any kids. In fact, there are barely any cars. I suddenly get a chill as if I’m riding through a ghost town.
“Kelly, where are all the kids?”
“Hmm?” she asks, checking for traffic as she turns onto her street.
I glance around again. “There’s no one here, it’s weird. Is there an event going on or something?”
“What’s going on?”
Kelly gives me a tight smile. “It’s nothing.”
“Kelly—”
“Not a lot of people live here anymore, okay?” she says, the words bursting from her like she’s been trying hard to hold them in. She pulls into the driveway next to my car and slumps back into her seat. “Most everyone has moved away.”
“Why?”
She laughs, and it’s an empty sound. “They were paid to. There’s a company that wants all this property. They want to demolish the houses and turn it into apartments. Build office space. The city center is spreading outward and they think building here is a good time to get in on the action early.”
She gets out of her car, heading for the house like the wants to hide from what she just said, but I follow her. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, I’m not.” We go into the kitchen and Kelly immediately starts to make us tea. It’s a ritual we’ve had for a long time and something she does when she’s anxious or upset.
“What are you going to do? Leave?”
She doesn’t say anything.
“You’ve said all along that this was your place. That you would never leave.” Kelly has loved Angelica far more deeply than I ever did. She never ever wanted to leave.
“I don’t want to. I want to stay, even if it is a lot of money.” She pauses, and it feels like she’s considering how to proceed. “Jacob doesn’t feel that way though.”
I forcefully clamp my jaw shut to keep from spewing the response that automatically comes to mind whenever Jacob is brought into a conversation. Kelly’s husband and I don’t get along. We never have. I think she’s way too good for him, and I think he’s stifling her potential, dissuading her from returning to school for an advanced degree in education. It’s been a point of contention between the two of us and I don’t want to get into a fight about that right now. Not when she’s talking about leaving. “What did he say?”
“He told me he’s thinking about taking the money. Said it might be better to move closer to the city so he has a shorter commute. He’s also been looking at jobs out of state.”
“Out of state,” I repeat, trying to wrap my head around the fact that my sister might actually be okay with this. “Kelly, you can’t. This is home. It’s always been home.”
She leans against the counter, looking defeated. “I know. Nothing’s decided yet. I don’t want to leave—you know I love this house.”
The house was a gift to Kelly and Jacob from my parents. They felt it was the least they could do for a young couple who didn’t have a penny to their names. Not to mention that at that point they had pretty much given up on me getting married. I’m thankful that my mother doesn’t go on the internet down at her retirement home in Florida, but someone will still probably tell her about what happened. I should call her.
But Kelly and I know that this is about more than just the house. Angelica is our home. Without it, we wouldn’t know who we are. The thought of it being suddenly gone, being turned into high-rises, makes me feel ill.
Kelly turns back to the tea, watching it brew. At least I know now why she was so eager for details about my life. She was trying to avoid hers. This sucks. She gives me what I think is supposed to be a smile. “I’ll be okay, Dani. Really.”
“Okay,” I say, not convinced.
“Jacob will be home soon.”
I lift an eyebrow to her. “Do you want me to go?”
“No,” she sighs, “but if he saw anything about you and Nolan today you probably don’t want to hear what he’s going to say about it.”
A snort comes out of me as I laugh. I hate to put Kelly in between her husband and me, but she’s spot on. He’d call me a slut for even being photographed with someone like Nolan even if we had done nothing but talk. A true southern gentleman, that one. I give Kelly a hug, pulling her in tight. I try to let her know through the contact that I support her, though I don’t know if that’s something that’s possible to convey. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, and I catch the little sniff right after she says it. She’s more upset than she’s letting on. “We can make plans for lunch next week.”
“Sounds good,” I say, heading out the front door.
I grab my suitcase and jump in my own car. Turns out I left just in time. I pass Jacob as he’s pulling into the neighborhood, but he’s so focused on getting home that he doesn’t see me. Small favors. Instead I drive home, ready for the nap that I feel like I’ve definitely, definitely earned.
7
Dani
Morning comes way too soon. With the touch of jet lag I have and after losing so much sleep with Nolan, my body is exhausted. Not to mention the fact that despite being that tired, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. What happened—every bit of it. Even the memory of it was enough to arouse me, and even after reliving the memories with a vibrator between my legs, my body wanted more. So now I’m heading to work after yet another mostly sleepless night. I’m sure the clients will be very pleased with me.
I put on coffee and gather all the files I need from when I left them on Thursday. The Lexington Women’s Legal Clinic may not be everyone’s dream job, but I like it. The work we do is pro bono. Our cases include handling divorces for women in abusive relationships, custody fights, and finding emergency and alternative housing away from their abusive partners. We’re much more than just a legal clinic.
Pouring my coffee in a travel cup, I think I’m all ready, aside from my tired mental state. I grab my keys and head out the door. Just as I’m locking it behind me, I hear a shout, and I turn around to déjà vu—a bright flash in my face, blinding me. Only this time there’s more than one. There’s a large group of people on my front lawn with cameras and suddenly I’m surrounded by shouting people. Microphones are stuck in my face and I’m hearing a million bizarre questions:
“Miss Hathaway, are you a prostitute?”
“Nolan Coldwater is a shoe size fifteen, is his manhood that big?”
“What do you have on him?”
“There are reports of noise complaints on your hotel floor that night—did Nolan make you scream?”
“How much did he pay you to suck him off?”
“Will you do an exclusive about what it’s like to sleep with a Silver Lion?”
All of the questions are coming at once and I realize I’m just standing there. What do I do? What do I do? Okay. Focus Dani, get to the car. I start pushing through the crowd of paparazzi, but they’re pushing me back. I’m slammed on all sides by bodies, microphones inches from my mouth. They’re still shouting their questions, the content becoming more grotesque. Now I know why celebrities have body guards—for these people right here.
I start to get claustrophobic. At least four people are touching me and I feel like I can’t breathe. I start pushing, not caring if I hurt them. They’re on my property, it’s self-defense. I shove one of the reporters aside to get to my car door, and I barely get it closed. They’re still shouting at me as I start the car. Just drive, Dani, you can lose them. Just drive.
I tear out of my driveway faster than I’ve ever done before, and I can see behind me that the paparazzi are sprinting for their cars. Shit. They’re going to follow me. How does anyone deal with this? How is any of this legal? Thankfully my job isn’t too far away. If I can just get there I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m sure. I can call the cops for harassment there if they don’t leave me alone.
The sound of my engine is loud in my ears as I speed up. I know full well I’m breaking the speed limit, and half of me is hoping I do get pulled over just so I can tell the cop what’s going on. It’s not like it would be hard to prove with the photo of Nolan and me still making the rounds. Now the photo of me coming out of my house will be on the internet, and I’ll no longer be anonymous. If they found my house t
hey found me. Danielle Hathaway—no relation to Anne Hathaway. I can just see the headlines now.
In my rear view mirror I see several cars speeding after me. Shit. One of them is gaining on me, a man in a giant black Escalade. He’s close enough that I can see his face in my mirror and I know that he’s one of the people who kept asking gross sexual questions. Exactly the kind of man I want chasing me down on a highway. I speed up even more, and I know it’s dangerous, but I don’t want him to be that close.
I see my exit, and I barely slow down as I take it. Luck is on my side and I hit green lights, swerving around cars I’m sure weren’t expecting to run into a mad woman driving for her life. Unfortunately, the Escalade is right on my heels. I don’t see any other cars—we probably left them behind. The turn into my parking lot is coming up quickly, and I think maybe if I play it right I can lose him. I don’t slow down until the last second, careening around the corner and into the lot. But this guy is good, and he makes the turn too.
My heart is practically beating out of my chest, and my lungs are burning. I don’t know if I’ve ever had this much adrenaline rushing through my body. I manage to stop, swinging into a parking spot across from my boss’s car, right next to the door of our office. I breath for a heartbeat, and then I’m moving again. Glass shatters around me and I hear myself scream. I slam into the steering wheel and bounce back, my head hitting the seat behind me. I hear another crash of glass, and the screech of metal on metal.
Then everything is quiet.
I’m leaning against the seat, and I notice my arms are limp. Why are my arms limp? I try to raise them and only get a few inches. They feel wobbly. Why is everything so bright? There’s the sound of cars and I think that’s a siren I hear. There’s a crunching sound like someone’s stepping on glass. “Dani? Dani are you all right?”